#slow down aging

[diabetesreversalprograminindia]

How Does Aging Affect Your Health, and Can You Reverse It?

This article is originally published on Freedom from Diabetes website, available here. This is very common nowadays, many people seem to look older than their actual age? Diabetics often experience this accelerated aging, and there are clear reasons behind it.

To understand the aging, you should understand, Chronological Age, based on the number of years you’ve lived, And Biological Age, how well your organs and tissues are functioning right now.

For Diabetics, Aging Speeds Up For 5 Key Reasons

High BSL- High blood sugar speeds up aging by creating harmful compounds called AGEs. These cause skin wrinkling by damaging proteins and fats in the body.

High insulin levels- High insulin levels in type 2 diabetics can have devastating consequences, as they cause cells to absorb not only sugar but also excess water and fat, triggering oxidative stress and the formation of free radicals that can damage your heart and compromise brain function.

Oxidative stress- When high blood sugar and insulin flood your body with sugar and fat, it depletes antioxidants, leading to oxidative stress and inflammation. This speeds up aging and wears you down.

Metaflammation- The cumulative effect of the above changes over time leads to a state of chronic, low-grade inflammation known as metaflammation.

Cellular Senescence- All the previous factors lead to something called cellular senescence, where cells stop dividing and working as they should, speeding up aging. In type 2 diabetes, stress from high blood sugar causes early aging of cells, shown by higher levels of a marker called p16.

Now lets understand How to Reverse the Aging Process?

How to Reverse the Aging Process?

Go for Proper diet- Start a plant-based diet helps make the body more alkaline, reducing acidity and inflammation.

Practice Intermittent Fasting- You have to start intermittent fasting. Switching between eating and fasting triggers healing and repair processes in the body. These actions can help slow down or even reverse the aging process. Research shows that intermittent fasting can improve lifespan and health markers.

Chronic Stress- Various forms of stress, whether from relationships, work, or finances, can accelerate the aging process.

Mindset- As the body ages, the mind often begins to internalize the idea of getting older, which can further accelerate aging. This belief alone can be a significant factor in rapid aging. It’s important to think and feel young.

To know more about this, you can visit our Article. Also please connect with me on my website, Facebook page, and YouTube if you want to stay in touch or give me any feedback!

[mascwoman]

The audacity of an adult lesbian not liking fat women. Have you never fucking seen a woman age?

[timethehobo]

Quick animated thingy cos I was just imagining a romance route greeting.

[nadiasna7]

What if WWX lived to see his forties in his original body (without the core, of course)

[why-the-heck-not]

me, a responsible being, working on the coding project as I should vs. me, a dysfunctional shithead, getting distracted by reading about brains (once aGAIN damnit (it's my favorite "I need to study my field but bc I should do that it's an impossible unthinkable feat now, so I'm reading about something else to fool my brain I'm still being productive"-topic))

[cbmagus49]

[seochangbingifs]

ATE (2024) 13/∞: Changbin and Jisung in SKZ-TALKER Ep.65

[puppetmaster13u]

Idk I just had the intrusive idea of the JL or some hero investigating the GIW or some other group with suspicions of them keeping merfolk or similar what with the giant tanks and what's shown in their paper trails over the years.

Only for Big Ass realms naga to swim by the observation window in the water.

From top to bottom, left to right: Valerie, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Danny, Ellie & Dan

Like I am saying 30ft (9.1m) at the least from head to tail, probably bigger in giant rooms. And like, visibly has been there for a while. Like the GIW have been studying them as the only available specimens after they hypothetically destroyed the portals.

The GIW is the ghost investigation ward after all, not extermination. Though that doesn't mean they're exactly treated the best either- more akin to something like a snake or crow, like semi-intelligent animals like dolphins, chained to make taking samples & dragging them from the ecto-infused waters easier.

And maybe they're a little feral, muzzles on save for feedings preventing them from talking, if they even remember how to make noises that aren't in the words of the Zone anymore.

Maybe they've convinced themselves that it could be worse, they could've been killed like Vlad, like an animal that had bit too much, over and over. Maybe they've convinced themselves that this isn't so bad, even if they're treated less than human, even if they've not seen the sun for who knows how long now.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Design Thoughts?

-Metal Core Valerie, her scales are literally made from it, in blacks and reds like molten gemstones. Her scales are sharp too, designed for easily cutting through stone. Lots of spikes that glow when channeling energy.

-Plant Core Sam, scales designed for plant seeds to catch hold and take root not unlike a sloth's fur, hiding the sharp thorn-like ones lining her backside. Also, acid. Blacks, greens, and flashes of bright purples & greens that hint at the poisonous nature

-Storm Core Tucker, very thick scales designed for going through the sand with side spikes that help channel electricity. Has both a rattle and a pair of stingers that could hypothetically 'plug in' to things as well. Some of the most bioluminescence of the group.

-Ocean Core Jazz, she is the most aquatically designed out of all of them, with lures all across her body that mimics the lights reflecting off water, tricking the mind from noticing her. Large carp-like scales and several rows of teeth. Lots of blues in coloration with hints of oranges & yellows like a sunrise at the sea

-Space Core Danny, with large amounts of spikes and 'vents' that cover him in an aurora if he were free. Spikes with their own miniature gravity forces, twisting the area around him as he moves. Black iridescence & swirling white-blue patterns like galaxies are painted across his body

-Moon Core Ellie, covered in fine needle-esque scales not unlike how actual moondust is. Very rough like sandpaper and a fin that mimics the tail of a comet tinted ecto-green. Mostly monotone colors otherwise.

-Sun Core Jordan, with similar vents to Danny but with flames and plasma. Thick fur at the end of his tail not unlike how Vlad's was, with thick scales that allow for swimming through molten material that could melt anything and anyone else. Blacks, whites, blues, almost like white-hot coals

[citrine-elephant]

leon may be a cold-blooded thing who needs a heat lamp, but you know he'll be tits-out no matter what

was gonna be a sad post-vendetta era leon, ended up with old man whiskey dilf concept.

[heylittleriotact]

⚰ＷＩＰ ＷＨＥＮＥＶＥＲ⚰

I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx and love seeing their work pop up on my dash - thank you <3

The Soup du Jour is... smut! Plotless, pointless, porntacular, horny Emmrook smut.

We've got praise kinks, we've got flashing, we've got grinding, we've got trying-to-distract-this-poor-man-from-his-work, we've got Rook biting off more than she can chew when Emmrich calls her bluff. It is in this piece that I am (ultimately) going to make good on my threat of Emmrich reciting erotic poetry intimately into Rook's ear while he makes deeply passionate love to her, because that idea has lived rent-free in my head for days now and I need to manifest it. But first I need Rook to be a brat, and for Emmrich to... deal with that.

I was having doubts about this one because I am forever afraid of writing OOC, but honestly I'm just trying to chuck it in the fuck it bucket and have fun.

Tagging: @preciouslittlebhaalbae (you have TIME now MWAHAHAHA), @allofthebarks (don't hold out on me), @emmg (I know you're cooking 👀)

Under the cut because it is ✨EXPLICIT✨

𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃:

A funeral event where the prepared body of the deceased is reposed in the casket (open or closed) so that mourners may pay their respects, say their goodbyes, and grieve communally prior to the formal funeral service.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she pulled on the flimsy little camisole. She had very specific plans in mind when she slipped into the thin leggings that she knew were just a little too tight. There was a distinct reason she had chosen to completely forgo underthings. 

She tied her thick hair into a low bun at the base of her skull so her neck was clearly visible… as was the somewhat faded love bite from their previous encounter - the one that made Lace turn beetroot when she laid eyes on it at breakfast. The one that prompted Taash to reach over the table with a congratulatory high five. Emmrich had coughed awkwardly and subtly adjusted his own collar, clearly hoping the marks Amina had left on his neck in return were concealed.

She padded barefoot down the hallway to the laboratory, stomach fluttering and turning on itself in a not unpleasant way with the sheer anticipation of being in his proximity again. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him - his immense gravity could not be ignored; her need to be near him was insistent. She put little stock in the novelty of fate before Emmrich, but there was no doubt in her mind that there must have been some sort of cosmic ruling in which they were unwittingly sentenced by the stars to find one another. Her belly smouldered at the thought of such a thing… of such belonging.

She knocked gently on the door. “It’s me - may I come in?” 

She didn’t have to wait for an answer, nor did she have to turn the knob herself: she heard a chair scuff over the flagstone, the muffled jingle of gold - a sound that set her heart racing more often than not these days - and the door was flung open. Emmrich stood in the threshold, beaming affectionately down at her. 

“Of course, darling.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door once she was inside. She might have been embarrassed that the sound of the lock clicking behind her made her breath catch solely due to its implication, but she was having a hard time feeling much of anything but barely restrained lust for the man in front of her. 

He drew her in close with an arm around her waist, still holding her hand between them, massaging her palm with his thumb as he bowed his head to kiss her sweetly. Her knees went weak when his lips met hers and his familiar scent filled her nose, rendering her brain incapable of anything other than inwardly chanting the same base sentiment over and over for as long as the kiss lasted: Home! Home! Home! Home! You’re home!

He straightened and looked at her, smiling as though he hadn’t heard the hungry little moan that had slipped from her, nor perceived the way she’d pressed as much of her body against him as she could during their embrace. “How are you today?” He asked, genuinely interested - as always. He knew. Surely he knew that she was positively bursting with need for him.

“Fine,” she breathed, returning the smile, watching as he started back towards the desk that was covered with books, inkpots, and parchment. “I’m well, thank you. Just thought I’d come say hello, see what you’re up to.”  

He pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the desk for her to sit on. She opted to remain standing instead, her eyes flitted over the pages of drying ink spread over the desk. 

“More letters home?” She waited until he was settled in his chair again, the quill back in his hand, and she bent at the waist to take a closer look at a recent anatomical drawing he’d completed. She could feel the cozy heat of the laboratory caress the exposed peaks of her breasts as the insubstantial shirt draped downward, offering a generous eyeful to anyone who might be sitting directly across from her. 

Her eyes flicked up from the drawing when Emmrich didn’t answer right away, a clever smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she caught him red-handed; his eyes locked on the dainty swell of her breasts. 

He came to his senses when he felt her eyes on him and he comprehended the coquettish smirk on her face. “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Yes. Maintaining alliships and channels of communication is vital as we draw closer to our confrontation with the gods.” He swallowed and smiled again as Amina straightened and rounded the desk, settling against the wood on his side now.

“A fine plan,” she concurred, leaning back on her hands, her very visible nipples more or less eye level for the handsome academic to admire. “I hope I’m not distracting you: it’s so rare that I get a few hours to just relax these days.” She made a bit of a show of tilting her chin up and slowly rolling her head from side to side, stretching out the muscles of her neck and making sure Emmrich could see the soft plum-tinted bloom of colour he’d imparted on her skin as he sent her over the edge with his name on her lips, buried to the hilt between her legs as she clenched hard around him, her fingers curled tightly in his soft, thick hair. ‘You are incredible, darling,’ he had sighed against her tingling skin afterwards when they were little more than a tangled, panting heap of limbs. It had taken a good hour after that before she could walk again…

Amina squirmed against the desk a little at the thought, aware of the burgeoning wetness that was accumulating at the juncture of her thighs. 

Somehow Emmrich managed to maintain the discipline required to look back at the letter he was working on, his lips curling quaintly. “Not at all, my dear - quite the contrary in fact: I’m so glad that you’re finally taking some time to look after yourself.” He dipped the quill, tapped it once, twice, and then brought it to the paper.

She observed him in silence until he seemingly made peace with the fact that she was not going to sit on the chair he’d brought over for her, and instead pushed his own back slightly, pulling her down onto his lap where she perched gleefully, having gotten what she wanted. 

“I must concede that you are somewhat distracting, so I will need your assistance in proofreading these before they’re sent out - I do have an academic reputation to maintain, regardless of the beautiful woman on my knee.” 

“Is that so?” Amina purred, nuzzling into his neck, her lips barely ghosting over his skin that smelled organic and clean - crisp soap and freshly cut sage… a lingering hint of pipe tobacco and expensive brandy. 

Oh yes, she was going to be one hell of a distraction…

“She sounds like a real piece of work, this woman. It’s a marvel that you get anything done at all with her around.” She tilted her hips ever so slightly. Not enough for it to be claimed that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but enough so that the fingernails of his left hand dug into her side a little where he gripped her. A pleased smile took her lips at the feeling of him against her, already half hard: he could pretend to be aloof and composed all he liked, but she knew that there was only one possible outcome for this encounter. 

“I was just having a similar thought, as it turns out,” he murmured, breath catching slightly when Amina ground against him more deliberately this time. “She’s cornered me in my laboratory no fewer than three times this week, you see: my productivity has utterly plummeted.”

The way he whispered those words, his voice so sinful and cunning…

“Oh dear…” Amina tutted. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” She moved to slide from his lap, fully prepared to at least pretend that she cared a whit about Emmrich’s ‘productivity’ of late. 

He held her fast though, keeping her on his lap with his hands and arms, and the sheer fact of his existence alone. She rewarded him with a satisfied hum and another agonizingly slow roll of her hips, suspecting that she was probably beginning to soak through her thin pants.

His hand dropped from her waist to her thigh and he palmed the expanse of hard muscle there, dragging his fingers towards her hip as he leaned forward and his hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear, driving a small gasp from her as she flinched in his grasp: he had not been idly boasting during that dinner date about his anatomical prowess.

“I fear I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he confided, those artful, nimble fingers of his straying to her waistband and slipping beneath it. He sharply inhaled through his teeth and uttered a soft ‘oh’ when he found her waiting for him, slick and needy. There was a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “She is intoxicating, you see…”

She moaned encouragingly as he swirled a finger through her, clearly enjoying the experience of her arousal alone: she could distinctly feel his hardness against her rear now.

Oh how she longed to ravish him - ride him to completion on this very chair, or on the floor perhaps. Maybe against one of the many bookshelves that lined the room - they had dallied against one the week before, her leg hitched up around his thin waist, pulling him deeper as he set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs and hit angles that caused her to see stars. 

Or she could bend over the railing of the balcony upstairs and feign interest in the curious nature of their environs while he slammed into her over and over again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips… 

Of course there had been the rather awkward instance a few days earlier where Manfred had wandered in on them both in a state of partial undress: Emmrich’s waistcoat hanging open, Amina dragging her hands through his hair, her own shirt piled in a careless heap on the floor nearby and Emmrich’s hand down her pants as she tried to kick off her high-heeled lilac slippers without removing her lips from his skin. Manfred had launched himself between the two of them with a consternated hiss, clearly interpreting their entanglement to mean they were fighting instead of well… the other thing. The following day, Emmrich gave his first in a series of many lectures to Manfred about the birds and the bees - and reiterated the invaluable virtue of always knocking before entering a room that might have someone else in it.

She was snapped from her musing at the sublime sensation of Emmrich’s finger dragging along the ridges of her walls as he slid the digit inside of her. She let out a small gasp at the intrusion and reflexively clenched around it, hips rocking against his once more. 

“... but I really must finish these letters.” There was a playful, coy edge to his voice as he slowly withdrew his finger and slowly pushed it back in. “This striking woman of mine will need to exercise patience today, it seems…”

Something about being his striking woman in particular sent a jolt of arousal straight through her very soul. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against her feverish skin as he cupped her sex, his thumb brushing almost tauntingly over her aching clit. 

“Please, Emmrich…” she whined, arching up into his touch, making her need plain. 

The demonstration of manners earned her a second finger, but her lover did not deviate from his task as he leaned forward, dipped the quill, and began to write once more. “In good time, my precious love,” he soothed. “Try to relax for the time being - I shan’t take long.” 

“It feels so good though…” 

“That’s wonderful, darling - I want you to feel good.” 

She fell silent, the wind in the sails of her desire to argue stilling as she let her head fall against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to exist in the moment - holding on tight to every emphatic response of her nervous system as Emmrich touched her with a capable familiarity that suggested he’d touched her a thousand times before; the erotic symphony of the quill scratching over the parchment mingled with the sound of his fingers moving within her… her breathy moans… his many bangles shifting gently with each purposeful gesture…

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured eventually - she had lost track of time - kissing her shoulder before returning to the letter. He had to be nearly done, hadn’t he? “So good for me… my sweet Amina…”

She whimpered at his words - the reverent praise tolling something deep within her that was starved and lonely. She writhed on his thigh as he placed tender kisses all over her cheek and crooked his fingers, stroking that euphoric place inside of her that made cognizant thought impossible and made her thighs tremble like she’d been in the training hall all day. He took her apart slowly, casually… effortlessly, and before long she was fluttering around him, cheeks and lips flushed a delicate pink, staring down an orgasm that was about to be everyone in the building’s business - she could feel it: the deep fire in her belly roiling and twisting on itself, going taut, so tense and eager that one more touch could snap it, yielding the most decadent release…

And then he was gone, the absence of his touch keenly felt as her walls flexed and tensed around the sudden nothingness. 

She glowered at him, though her stomach flip-flopped enthusiastically as she watched him taste her on his slender fingers with a dignified poise she should have expected. “That was cruel.”

“Is it cruel to strive to linger in a garden of untold majesty forever, even knowing forever is unobtainable?” He stroked those same fingers gently over her lips and she caught the tip of one between her teeth, flicking the very tip of her tongue over the fleshy pad of it. “I want to savour you, my dear.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. “Let me take my time.”

[boopshoops]

TWST OC INTRODUCTION - TCOAV

Salem Lee - The Profane and the Sacred

Name: Salem Lee

Nicknames: Maybell, Ichthys

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Bi-Sapiosexual

Birthday: June 29 (Cancer)

Age: 19 in canon TWST age, 21 in TCOAV AU

Height: 5'3 or 159cm

Voice Claim(s): Carolina Ravassa

Twisted from: ;)

Unique Magic: "The Witches' Sabbath" The witches' sabbath was once described as a nocturnal gathering to perform rituals for demons, now it is used by Salem to call upon others for aid. Using her familiar, Eugene, some of the surrounding nature can be pulled towards his body, morphing into what is essentially a black hole. Once absorbing enough material, Eugene can transform into a pitch black beacon. This solely alerts other magic users in a twenty-five mile radius to her location, and those who are around the beacon during its activation receive is a significant boost in power, along with less blot accumulation. However, the spell cannot be activated while she and Eugene are separated.

Grade: N/A

Job: Waitress (with hairdressing and baking commissions as a side)

Hobbies: Writing, baking, cooking, tarot reading, good old-fashioned reading, magic study.

Likes: Chocolate Pave, anything chocolate really, spring, summer, herbology, mycology, witchcore, goth music/style, lunar science.

Dislikes: Improper self care, being dismissed or ignored, nutella, mainstream sns, the dark, a messy environment, too much free time.

Fears: Losing loved ones due to negligence, being ghosted, not being taken seriously by those she loves, heights.

Summary: Moon fae, known for maturing similarly to humans and forgoing excellence in magic to trade for even longer life spans, are rare. Even rarer, however, are those like Salem, who work tirelessly to reclaim their magic in a magicless land. The results of her efforts? A sputtering, gooey, feline familiar with a tendency to absorb anything and everything.

Despite her typically serious and down to earth personality, this has landed her in trouble a good handful of times. She's no stranger to chaos, or the cops for that matter, but despite all of this, she is a gentle old soul with an endless capacity for care. She believes magic is the perfect means to keep her friends and family out of trouble. "No magic" seems like a stupid law in comparison when it could keep them all happy, healthy, and safe.

This belief does come with more downsides than simply breaking the law, though, as her abilities are quite... limited. While Salem has an unending passion for the craft, she also tends to overestimate herself. With her main focus being on fortune-telling and clairvoyance, she will often find herself extremely paranoid by the little things, given the (more than likely) chance her predictions are incorrect. Even with how much this may drive herself and her close ones crazy, she is, in the end, just trying her best.

Character Playlist - Outfit Inspiration - Moon Fae Info Post (TBD)

Author's Note: Salem has been around for awhile- though I never quite use her as often as I should. It felt like everytime I tried to insert her into some new AU, something would come up :P Anywho, She is a rather neutral character. She doesn't care a bunch about morality as long as it follows her own code- which, hey, I guess explains how she could end up with and be exes with Yuu Shi. Aftermath of doomed yuri? ya. Unfortunately she has not been transported outside of Dusk Summit like my other characters, so it will be awhile until there is more content with her. bUT i still wanna do more with her rather than just have her be "Yuu's ex."

[achlysfx]

Solas' level of confidence whenever we see him walk slowly in DA:V is just so well animated, it bleeds power to me.

Wisdom has left the building & Pride is assuming his throne. It's as if he completely embodies the Fen'Harel side whenever he's not speaking with someone from the Inquisition.

[vaguely-concerned]

even at this point in the story and with the romance well and truly confirmed it's very possible that lucanis has never seen even a sliver of rye's naked skin below the throat. very likely no one on the team has yet except possibly emmrich if rye got hurt in battle and needed help patching it up. high-necked watcher garb with gloves and all stay ON at all times. thank god for rye's sake that lucanis' history of romantic interest indicates that surprise bitch he could be kind of into that fhsdkjfas

[timethehobo]

Unrelenting showers of affection.

[fisticuffsatapplebees]

Jonathan Sims is Theseus' Ship

Jonathan Sims is Theseus' Ship. He's a question on how many pieces of someone can be carved out before there fundamentally different. A question of how many of those pieces can be replaced by something other, something he never asked for until he's not him anymore. At what point, in the slow, seasons-long degradation of himself does Jon give way to The Archivist? And by season 5, there is a very real threat that, by saving everything, Jon might tear all those new pieces out. That, in breaking wood and banished Eyes, the ship would be so full of holes that, no more question, it will sink.